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Pacheco en Passage 44: Brussels (post)modernisme als erfgoed van morgen
Full text linkLocated in the centre of Brussels, Pachecolaan 44 is a remarkable sixteen-level office building (thirteen aboveground and three underground). Strategically situated on Brussels’ ring road, it acts as a landmark for the neighbourhood. The building is an eye-catcher owing to the wickerwork pattern of the concrete modules in the elevations. It was designed in 1964 by the architect Marcel Lambrichs and his team for the former Gemeentekrediet (Crédit Communal de Belgique) bank. Pacheco, as the complex was known, provided over six thousand square metres of office space and was the bank’s headquarters until 2015. Its plinth was a mixed-use arcade housing a cinema, restaurants, shops, exhibition space and an auditorium. In the 1970s, this ‘Passage 44’ had a reputation as a vibrant centre of cultural life. Today the tower is home to Belgium’s Immigration Department, while the plinth has been converted into a KU Leuven campus.
Pacheco and Passage 44 belong indisputably to Brussels’ collective memory and by extension to that of Belgium, due in part to the well-attended exhibitions and lectures that Gemeentekrediet organized in ‘its’ arcade. The bank presented itself as a socially engaged business and regarded the promotion of art and knowledge as one of its core tasks. In addition, the building’s history is closely tied to post-war developments in the fields of urban planning and architecture in Brussels. Its historical and urban design values were part of the reason why the Gemeentekrediet’s former headquarters was added to the Brussels Capital Region’s official heritage register in 2024.
Despite Pacheco’s heritage credentials, it has received very little attention in the literature. By placing Pacheco and Passage 44 in their architectural-historical context once more, this article aims to contribute to knowledge of Brussels’ post-war heritage. It does so by considering two key moments: the original design and construction phase in the 1960s, and the staff restaurant project by the designer Frans L. Van Praet, which was executed around the turn of the century. The works carried out in these two periods can be classified respectively as ‘modern’ and ‘postmodern’. The integration of these antithetical design concepts within the same building complex is unique in the Belgian context.
As well as an examination of the past, this article offers an insight into future possibilities for large-scale post-war projects. In light of growing interest in the modern movement and in young heritage, the article considers theory, heritage policy and restoration practice within the Brussels Capital Region. Although young heritage has gained (academic) recognition and legal protection, the translation of theoretical heritage evaluation into restoration practice is faltering. The development of a broader methodology in the field of ‘value mapping’ can offer a solution to this. An analysis of the Pacheco case provides valuable insights of benefit to the sustainability of future projects.In het centrum van Brussel staat aan de Pachecolaan 44 een opmerkelijk gebouwcomplex van zestien bouwlagen (dertien bovengronds en drie ondergronds). Strategisch gelegen aan de Kleine Ring, fungeert het als herkenningspunt voor de buurt. Het gebouw is een blikvanger door het vlechtwerk van betonnen elementen in de gevel. Architect Marcel Lambrichs en zijn team ontwierpen het gebouw in 1964 voor het toenmalige Gemeentekrediet van België (Crédit Communal de Belgique). Pacheco, zoals het complex kortweg werd genoemd, bood meer dan zesduizend vierkante meter kantoorruimte en was tot 2015 de hoofdzetel van de bank. In de plint ter hoogte van de Kruidtuinlaan bevond zich een commerciële galerij met bioscoop, restaurants, winkels en auditorium. Deze ‘Passage 44’ stond in de jaren 1970 bekend als een bruisend cultureel centrum. Vandaag huisvest de toren de Dienst Vreemdelingenzaken, terwijl de plint wordt omgebouwd tot campus van de KU Leuven.
Pacheco en Passage 44 zijn een onmiskenbaar onderdeel van het Brusselse collectieve geheugen en bij uitbreiding van dat van België. Aanleiding hiervoor zijn onder andere de drukbezochte tentoonstellingen en lezingen die het Gemeentekrediet in ‘zijn’ galerij organiseerde. De bank profileerde zich als maatschappelijk geëngageerd bedrijf en beschouwde het bevorderen van kunst en kennis als een van haar kerntaken. Daarnaast is de geschiedenis van het gebouw nauw verbonden met de naoorlogse ontwikkelingen op het gebied van stedenbouw en architectuur in Brussel. Omwille van, onder andere, zijn historische en stedenbouwkundige waarden is de voormalige hoofdzetel van het Gemeentekrediet sinds 2024 ingeschreven in de wettelijke erfgoedinventaris van het Brussels Hoofdstedelijk Gewest.
Ondanks de interesse uit de erfgoedhoek komt de casus Pacheco in de bestaande literatuur weinig aan bod. Dit artikel kadert Pacheco en Passage 44 opnieuw in hun architectuurhistorische context en levert zo een bijdrage aan de kennis over het Brusselse naoorlogse erfgoed. Daarbij wordt stilgestaan bij twee sleutelmomenten: de ontwerpfase en opbouw in de jaren zestig en het project voor het personeelsrestaurant door ontwerper Frans L. Van Praet, dat rond de eeuwwisseling werd uitgevoerd. De werken die in deze periodes werden uitgevoerd, vallen respectievelijk onder te brengen onder de noemers ‘modern’ en ‘postmodern’. De integratie van deze tegengestelde ontwerpvisies binnen eenzelfde gebouwencomplex is uniek in de Belgische context.
Naast een blik op het verleden biedt dit artikel een inkijk in de toekomstmogelijkheden voor grootschalige naoorlogse projecten. In het licht van een groeiende interesse voor de moderne beweging en voor jong erfgoed wordt stilgestaan bij theorie, erfgoedbeleid en restauratiepraktijk binnen het Brussels Hoofdstedelijk Gewest. Hoewel het jonge erfgoed aan (academische) waardering en juridische bescherming heeft gewonnen, hapert de vertaling van de theoretische erfgoedwaardebepaling naar de restauratiepraktijk. De ontwikkeling van een bredere methodologie op het gebied van value mapping, kan hiervoor een oplossing bieden. Een analyse van de casus Pacheco biedt waardevolle inzichten die de duurzaamheid van toekomstige projecten ten goede komen
Material Gardens: Spaces of Materials Recovery
Full text linkRecently, the notion of material harvesting, collection, and reworking has gained significant attention as a crucial step in understanding essential aspects of building culture, particularly in relation to reuse, ma-terial scarcity, or, conversely, material availability. The ‘Recycling Beauty’ exhibition (Fondazione Prada, Milan 2022), which displayed Greek and Roman spolia, marble fragments, and pieces of sculptures placed alongside one other, alluded to practices of appropriation and possession, to the relationship between craftsmen and found resources, and to the need to store and preserve material in times of scarcity or political uncertainty. Similar questions have emerged in Dutch and Belgian contexts, for example, from research into the work of designer Marcel Raymaekers and his way of organizing salvaged materials (Marcel Raymaekers, pioneer in circular architecture, Vai, Antwerp 2023). Besides highlighting the relevance of practices linked to material reuse, exhibitions and installations also make clear by their very organization, how material collections take space and, at the same time, sculpt ever-changing landscapes.
Building on these premises, and shifting the focus towards contemporary and less curated cases, this article critically examines the purpose, spatial qualities and configurations of three material storage typologies in the Dutch context – bricks and tiles, soil, and trees – highlighting their pivotal role in relation to material accessibility and availability. These sites, termed ‘material gardens’, are understood as experimental laboratories or ‘banks’, where the notion of availability is translated into the allocation and management of (material) reserves.
Though often overlooked and considered marginal, such open spaces are in fact key sites where design and other creative processes are crucially tied to resource allocation and disposal, and impact collective imagination and practices. They are increasingly being positioned at the core of construction and deconstruction processes, raising relevant ecological questions and helping to shape tacit knowledge on material reuse.Recently, the notion of material harvesting, collection, and reworking has gained significant attention as a crucial step in understanding essential aspects of building culture, particularly in relation to reuse, ma-terial scarcity, or, conversely, material availability. The ‘Recycling Beauty’ exhibition (Fondazione Prada, Milan 2022), which displayed Greek and Roman spolia, marble fragments, and pieces of sculptures placed alongside one other, alluded to practices of appropriation and possession, to the relationship between craftsmen and found resources, and to the need to store and preserve material in times of scarcity or political uncertainty. Similar questions have emerged in Dutch and Belgian contexts, for example, from research into the work of designer Marcel Raymaekers and his way of organizing salvaged materials (Marcel Raymaekers, pioneer in circular architecture, Vai, Antwerp 2023). Besides highlighting the relevance of practices linked to material reuse, exhibitions and installations also make clear by their very organization, how material collections take space and, at the same time, sculpt ever-changing landscapes.
Building on these premises, and shifting the focus towards contemporary and less curated cases, this article critically examines the purpose, spatial qualities and configurations of three material storage typologies in the Dutch context – bricks and tiles, soil, and trees – highlighting their pivotal role in relation to material accessibility and availability. These sites, termed ‘material gardens’, are understood as experimental laboratories or ‘banks’, where the notion of availability is translated into the allocation and management of (material) reserves.
Though often overlooked and considered marginal, such open spaces are in fact key sites where design and other creative processes are crucially tied to resource allocation and disposal, and impact collective imagination and practices. They are increasingly being positioned at the core of construction and deconstruction processes, raising relevant ecological questions and helping to shape tacit knowledge on material reuse
Het Verlangen naar Zee: Tweehonderd Jaar Vakantie aan Zee en Bouwen aan de Kust
Full text linkReview of a book written by Jeroen Cornilly.Review van een boek geschreven door Jeroen Cornilly
Het Binnenhof Den Haag: Grafelijk machtscentrum in de 13e eeuw
Full text linkReview of a book redacted by J. van Kesteren-Lok.Review of a book redacted by J. van Kesteren-Lok
De wetgevende macht van de Belgische bouwvakker: Verkenning van een vergeten geschiedenis (1909-1939)
Full text linkAlthough no architectural project is built without construction workers, labourers remain woefully underrepresented in architectural and construction history. By tracing the emergence and development of the Algemene Centrale van de Bouw, the socialist construction workers’ union in Belgium, this article seeks to address that gap. It aims to move beyond the conventional emphasis on the relationship between workers and construction practice and to demonstrate how construction workers also had a significant impact on the legislative framework of the Belgian construction sector – far beyond the construction site itself.
The article focuses on the union’s two main priorities: the struggle for fair wages and for improved safety on construction sites. Initially through strikes and later through more institutionalized negotiations, the organization succeeded in securing and protecting construction workers’ wages, while also helping to shape the development of safety regulations on site through bargaining and media campaigns. Furthermore, the union skilfully navigated the complex legal landscape of the Belgian construction sector. By strategically leveraging collective labour agreements and public procurement documents, it promoted alternative forms of regulation. This allowed changes to be implemented without relying on the often cumbersome procedures of formal legislation, granting the union a tangible influence on construction practices.
These legal instruments also enabled the union to respond to the sweeping technological changes and new building materials that were entering the construction sector at the time. They valorised the new labour risks and technical skills these innovations entailed by incorporating them into improved wage conditions. In doing so, construction workers –too often overlooked in architectural, construction and social history – asserted their legislative power and laid the essential groundwork for improved wages and safety in the construction sector during the post-war development of the Belgian welfare state.Hoewel geen enkel architectuurproject zonder bouwvakkers wordt opgetrokken, blijven arbeiders pijnlijk onderbelicht in architectuur- en bouwgeschiedenis. Door het ontstaan en de ontwikkeling te traceren van de Algemene Centrale van de Bouw, de socialistische bouwvakbond in België, tracht dit artikel dit te remediëren. Het probeert daarbij voorbij te gaan aan de conventionele nadruk op de relatie tussen arbeiders en bouwpraktijk, en probeert juist aan te tonen hoe ook voorbij de werf bouwvakkers een belangrijke impact hadden op het wetgevend kader van de Belgische bouwsector. Hierbij wordt gefocust op de twee belangrijkste speerpunten van de bouwvakbond: de strijd voor een eerlijk loon, en betere veiligheid op de bouwplaats.
Eerst via staking en later via meer geïnstitutionaliseerd overleg slaagde de organisatie erin het loon van bouwvakkers stevig te verankeren en te beschermen, terwijl het aan de hand van onderhandeling en perscampagnes het ontstaan van veiligheidsregulering op de werf vormgaf. Bovendien wist de vakbond deskundig te navigeren in het complex legaal landschap van de Belgische bouwsector: via collectieve arbeidsovereenkomsten en publieke lastenboeken zette het strategisch in op alternatieve vormen van regelgeving. Hierdoor moesten aanpassingen niet langs de vaak logge procedures van officiële wetgeving, en kon de vakbond een direct voelbare invloed uitoefenen op de bouwpraktijk. Deze legale instrumenten lieten de Centrale daarenboven toe om een antwoord te bieden op de ingrijpende technologische veranderingen en bouwmaterialen die op dat moment hun intrede deden in de bouwsector, door de nieuwe arbeidsrisico’s en technische skills die deze technologieën met zich meebrachten te valoriseren in verbeterde looncondities. Zo wisten bouwvakkers, een vergeten stem binnen architectuur-, bouw-, en sociale geschiedenis, hun wetgevende macht te laten gelden, en legden ze op beide strijdfronten de cruciale basis voor de verdere naoorlogse welvaartsontwikkelingen in de Belgische bouwsector
Handel en hergebruik: De toepassing van tufsteen in de noordelijke Nederlanden (ca. 1000-1250)
Full text linkThis article discusses the use of tuff stone in the period around 1000-1250 in what is now the Netherlands. During the Middle Ages tuff was used from the Rhineland to Denmark. The historiography of this subject comprises a great many books and articles on tuff and the earliest tuff stone buildings in the Netherlands, but a lack of written sources makes it difficult to get a detailed picture of the trade in tuff and its use in construction. The dating of buildings from this period is also very challenging. This article draws on contextual information in an attempt to provide more insight into the extraction, transport and trade in tuff before the year 1250, while also discussing the principal actors and material characteristics.
To understand the context of tuff in the Netherlands one must first look at its distribution in Roman times. Tuff is known to have been used in over a hundred places in the Roman context and that material was sometimes reused in the Middle Ages. Although this reuse has never been systematically investigated, it can have consequences for the dating of medieval buildings, since that dating was sometimes based in part on certain characteristics of the material (block sizes). The article then looks at medieval tuff stone quarrying near Andernach. Quarrying of the stone had resumed in the tenth century, although it is impossible to give a precise date. Buyers played a crucial role, in particular the Cologne archbishops. The article names a number of these bishops as possible initiators of the interregional tuff-stone trade from the eleventh century onwards. In the Netherlands it can be assumed that the church building campaign of the Utrecht bishop Bernold had a major impact on the import of tuff from the Eifel region, judging by the massive size and regularity of the tuff-stone blocks used in the churches he commissioned.
Unfortunately, building-historical aspects like masonry composition and stone sizes offer few reliable indicators for accurate dating per whole, half or quarter century. Contrary to what some writers have suggested, large- and small-sized blocks were used interchangeably. The same applies to architecture. Features like spaarbogen (arches formed in the ground to save on building material), arch friezes and other architectural-historical characteristics were used over a longer time span, some as late as the thirteenth century by which time brick had become the main building material. So the architecture of the buildings discussed here does not furnish any hard evidence for dating either.
The article provides an inventory of over 500 locations where tuff was used in the Middle Ages, augmented with some 250 examples of tuff stone use in the Rhineland, thereby shedding light on the associated tuff stone landscape between Cologne and the North Sea. It concludes with an appeal for further research into each object, including systematic investigation of evidence of primary or reused (Roman) material. It is also recommended that traces of finishing be documented and mortar research be conducted, with the aim of gaining more knowledge about the Netherlands’ earliest tuff stone buildings.This article discusses the use of tuff stone in the period around 1000-1250 in what is now the Netherlands. During the Middle Ages tuff was used from the Rhineland to Denmark. The historiography of this subject comprises a great many books and articles on tuff and the earliest tuff stone buildings in the Netherlands, but a lack of written sources makes it difficult to get a detailed picture of the trade in tuff and its use in construction. The dating of buildings from this period is also very challenging. This article draws on contextual information in an attempt to provide more insight into the extraction, transport and trade in tuff before the year 1250, while also discussing the principal actors and material characteristics.
To understand the context of tuff in the Netherlands one must first look at its distribution in Roman times. Tuff is known to have been used in over a hundred places in the Roman context and that material was sometimes reused in the Middle Ages. Although this reuse has never been systematically investigated, it can have consequences for the dating of medieval buildings, since that dating was sometimes based in part on certain characteristics of the material (block sizes). The article then looks at medieval tuff stone quarrying near Andernach. Quarrying of the stone had resumed in the tenth century, although it is impossible to give a precise date. Buyers played a crucial role, in particular the Cologne archbishops. The article names a number of these bishops as possible initiators of the interregional tuff-stone trade from the eleventh century onwards. In the Netherlands it can be assumed that the church building campaign of the Utrecht bishop Bernold had a major impact on the import of tuff from the Eifel region, judging by the massive size and regularity of the tuff-stone blocks used in the churches he commissioned.
Unfortunately, building-historical aspects like masonry composition and stone sizes offer few reliable indicators for accurate dating per whole, half or quarter century. Contrary to what some writers have suggested, large- and small-sized blocks were used interchangeably. The same applies to architecture. Features like spaarbogen (arches formed in the ground to save on building material), arch friezes and other architectural-historical characteristics were used over a longer time span, some as late as the thirteenth century by which time brick had become the main building material. So the architecture of the buildings discussed here does not furnish any hard evidence for dating either.
The article provides an inventory of over 500 locations where tuff was used in the Middle Ages, augmented with some 250 examples of tuff stone use in the Rhineland, thereby shedding light on the associated tuff stone landscape between Cologne and the North Sea. It concludes with an appeal for further research into each object, including systematic investigation of evidence of primary or reused (Roman) material. It is also recommended that traces of finishing be documented and mortar research be conducted, with the aim of gaining more knowledge about the Netherlands’ earliest tuff stone buildings
De Gevelstenen van Amsterdam & Waar Haarlem in de Gevel Staat: VAN VÓÓR 1800 & DRIE EEUWEN HAARLEMSE GEVELSTENEN & HUISNAMEN
No full textReview of two books: the first one is written by Onno W. Boers (De Gevelstenen van Amsterda), the second book is written by Peter van Graafeiland (Waar Haarlem in de Gevel Staat).Review of two books: the first one is written by Onno W. Boers (De Gevelstenen van Amsterda), the second book is written by Peter van Graafeiland (Waar Haarlem in de Gevel Staat)
Included | Architecture Repurposed : Architectuur als middel voor een nieuwe toekomst | Office Winhov
No full textReview of two books written by Sanne van den Breemer & Robert Winkel and Uri Gilad, Annuska Pronkhorst & Jan Peter Wingender (eds)Bespreking van twee boeken van Sanne van den Breemer & Robert Winkel en Uri Gilad, Annuska Pronkhorst & Jan Peter Wingender (red.
De toekomst van het verleden: Erfgoed en klimaat
Full text linkReview of a book written by Thijs WeststeijnBespreking van een boek van Thijs Weststeij
Zwolle townscapes by Jacobus Vrel: circa 1640-1660
No full textJacobus Vrel is known as the painter of over twenty townscapes from the period 1640-1660, which is to say shortly before the active period of such specialists of the genre as Jan van der Heijden, Gerrit Berckheyde and Jan Abrahamsz Beerstraten. However, nothing is known about Vrel himself, and until recently it had proved impossible to pinpoint the location of his townscapes. Now a step-by-step analysis of a limited number of pictures using building history indicators, maps and other historical tools, has made it possible to decipher many of the topographical and architectural elements of the townscape depicted by Vrel. They point to the northern part of the centre of Zwolle.
Although Vrel had scant mastery of mathematical perspective, his townscapes were convincing spatial compositions and while not intended as a topographical records, they clearly referred to a specific neighbourhood. The completely non-academic and nonidealized nature of his depictions also makes them interesting as authentic visual documents of street life in the medieval part of an East Netherlands town in the mid-seventeenth century.
Four townscapes can be placed near the town wall along Waterstraat, and two others on the corner of the Broeren- and Nieuwstraat. An interesting detail in this respect is that Vrel painted the same bakery eight times, and that four of those paintings show the same man, wearing a red cap and white shirt, looking out of the first-floor window. Three bakeries have an awning with a sign reading ‘this house is for rent’. Historical research has revealed that the bakery belonged to a certain Reijner Gerrijts, who also owned a rental property located next door on the street corner beneath a continuous tiled roof. According to hearth tax records, that property stood vacant in 1641. This unique piece of information led to the precise location of the bakery and to the names of the baker and the tenant.Jacobus Vrel is known as the painter of over twenty townscapes from the period 1640-1660, which is to say shortly before the active period of such specialists of the genre as Jan van der Heijden, Gerrit Berckheyde and Jan Abrahamsz Beerstraten. However, nothing is known about Vrel himself, and until recently it had proved impossible to pinpoint the location of his townscapes. Now a step-by-step analysis of a limited number of pictures using building history indicators, maps and other historical tools, has made it possible to decipher many of the topographical and architectural elements of the townscape depicted by Vrel. They point to the northern part of the centre of Zwolle.
Although Vrel had scant mastery of mathematical perspective, his townscapes were convincing spatial compositions and while not intended as a topographical records, they clearly referred to a specific neighbourhood. The completely non-academic and nonidealized nature of his depictions also makes them interesting as authentic visual documents of street life in the medieval part of an East Netherlands town in the mid-seventeenth century.
Four townscapes can be placed near the town wall along Waterstraat, and two others on the corner of the Broeren- and Nieuwstraat. An interesting detail in this respect is that Vrel painted the same bakery eight times, and that four of those paintings show the same man, wearing a red cap and white shirt, looking out of the first-floor window. Three bakeries have an awning with a sign reading ‘this house is for rent’. Historical research has revealed that the bakery belonged to a certain Reijner Gerrijts, who also owned a rental property located next door on the street corner beneath a continuous tiled roof. According to hearth tax records, that property stood vacant in 1641. This unique piece of information led to the precise location of the bakery and to the names of the baker and the tenant